The Morning After
by ShineSomeLight
Summary: At this point, forgiveness was close to impossible. But going through his days without her? That was beyond it." One-shot regarding the fallout from Tina's confession, set during "Wheels." Rated K for extremely slight profanity.


**Author's Note:** I do not own Glee or any of its characters.

Once again, thanks to all y'all who took the time to read and review my previous story, it was extremely appreciated! This story is the result of my frustration with how poorly the fallout from Tina's confession in "Wheels" was handled. Tina and Artie were pretty much back to normal immediately, which seemed a bit uneven. This is my attempt to bridge that gap. Let me apologize right now, because this is a bit longer than I thought it would be, and I couldn't find a place where I was comfortable splitting it, so instead, you guys get a novel. I tried to make it as painless as possible, swear! =)

Also, this is my first attempt at dialogue, so let me know how it came out! Now that I've gotten my feet wet with the whole fan fiction thing, I'm trying to experiment with different things, so I'm trying to smooth out any rough edges.

As always, if you have the opportunity, reviews would be beyond awesome! I'm still very new to all this, and I'm welcome to any and all feedback or constructive criticism. Thanks for your time, hope you enjoy this! =)

* * *

The first thing he experienced upon awaking that morning was the thick, nauseating knot of upset deep in the pit of his stomach.

The second was the rush of memories that explained why that knot existed in the first place.

Artie sighed heavily, running his fingers forcefully through his hair, head still buried listlessly against the pillow.

Tina lied. She lied. She faked it. She had always faked it. Lies. Lies. Lies.

For the past 12 or so hours, that was the gamut of thoughts that circulated through his mind, leaving behind a dense trail of anger and disbelief. Artie had imaged their first date for months—what they would do, how she'd act towards him when he transitioned from a close friends to a love interest, whether or not he'd work up the bravery to hold her hand if the time arose—but never had he thought that it would end with him storming out, practically bursting with irate thoughts about her. But the confession of her feigned stutter proved too much for him to handle maturely. Her admission had abruptly pushed him beyond the edge of restraint in under 30 seconds—it had to be some sort of record, especially for an even-keeled individual like himself.

Artie begrudgingly sat up and manually swung his legs over the edge of his bed, not exactly anxious to get his day started. Starting his day meant that, inevitably, he'd have to see her. Look at her. Be in the same space as her. Just the thought of that made him groan in frustration. Why did he always have to be the strong one? The one who stood up to adversity, refusing to let it bring him down? Couldn't he just wallow in indignation, just this once? He already knew the answer was no; that just wasn't him. Plus, avoiding Tina altogether would mean staying home from school, and consequentially skipping out on glee club practice and the number that was choreographed around his vocal skills and physical limitations. Despite his overwhelming aversion to dealing with Tina right now, and all it encompassed, he knew that wouldn't be fair. All the other members of New Directions had practiced so hard, dedicated themselves to really performing the routine as best they could. So, once again, he would have to muscle through his personal difficulties and be the bigger man.

Lucky him.

Transferring himself over to his wheelchair, the rest of Artie's morning ritual was navigated purely via autopilot, his mind too busy recounting that final exchange between himself and Tina in the hallways of McKinley High the prior afternoon. You'd think he'd have gotten tired of analyzing that scene, seeing as that's how he'd spend the vast majority of his near-sleepless night. But his mind wouldn't quit, and even if it did, the constricting feeling deep within his chest would be reminder enough.

He went through the motions of getting ready for school with absolutely no cognizant recognition, just letting muscle memory guide him through the actions they executed on a normal basis. He was already showered, dressed, and sitting in his parents' van before he even became aware of his surroundings. His mother—thank heavens—had silently realized something was bothering her son to an extreme extent, but she read his body language and knew it was not the time to pry. She was always good at knowing when to push and when to just let things be. This morning, they drove to school in silence, and Artie could not have been more grateful. Even small talk would be far too taxing—he was lucky he had the energy to even pull his body into the passenger seat.

After his mother dropped him off, lightly touching his forearm before he shifted back into his chair and wishing him a good day (even through the foul haze that covered him, the warmth of her concern made his shoulders feel just the slightest bit lighter), Artie pushed himself up the walkway and into the double-doors of the high school. He was determined to do everything in his power to make it through the day with only the bare minimum contact with Tina. He rummaged through his locker and searched for the books he needed for his morning classes, forcing himself to focus on the academic aspect of the school day. He was determined not to think about lunchtime, study hall, glee club practice, or anything that would somehow involve her. Even thinking about _not_ thinking about her made him physically ill. So Artie resolved to be all business and let nothing distract him. He packed his backpack with the necessities, and began rolling himself to his first period class, secure in his new determination.

Then he looked up at the doorway of his final destination, and was greeted with a flash of blue amid a sea of black, as he witnessed Tina's final step into the classroom he was headed to. He silently cursed the sick humor of the universe.

They were in the same first period class. In the midst of his frustration and emotional fatigue, he had completely forgotten he had to start his day off with her.

He begrudgingly told himself it was too late to turn back, took a deep breath, and propelled himself into the classroom.

He wheeled right to his desk, removed his notebook from his backpack, and angrily opened it up to the next blank page without ever lifting his eyes. He didn't know if Tina saw him. He didn't care. If he had to be in the same room as her—which was painful enough, seeing as how he could just _feel_ her, which compressed his chest and heated the fire of his anger even further—then he wouldn't look at her. Simple. If he just focused on anything, anything else, and he could make it through this class.

Artie's plan sounded flawless in his head. However, in terms of execution, it was faulty.

After however many minutes in the classroom, he let down his guard. The tension in Artie's shoulders lessened and he began to relax. Then, be it out of habit or necessity, his eyes betrayed him and absentmindedly wandered over to her desk.

Within that split second, he took in more than he cared to observe, and his whole outlook shifted. His eyes traced the swollen, dark circles below hers, evidence of a night that was as difficult and restless as his. He saw her hands that cupped her chin, nails adorned with chipped polish and bitten down to the quick. Worst of all was what he didn't see: color. There was no color in her outfit. No attention-grabbing eyeshadow, no bright necklace. She was draped completely in somber shades of grey and black. Anyone else would have chalked it up to her supposed "goth" nature, but Artie immediately recognized it as a sure sign of despair.

Suddenly a new feeling permeated Artie's heart, temporarily overpowering all of the others: empathy. He balked at the sorrow and pity that overtook him, first confused at how suddenly the desire to roll right over to Tina and take her in his arms had washed over him, then ripe with a simmering rage. His anger with her was completely warranted—there was no need for her depression to pull at his heartstrings. In fact, if it was anyone else, he'd be taking pleasure in it. She deserved to feel the same sort of pain he felt. It was justice.

Artie wasn't sure how long he was sitting there trying to make sense of his heart's polar emotions, but out of the blue the bell clamored through the atmosphere, and the herd of students exited the classroom in a rush, Tina included in the flood. Artie shook his head, trying to clear away the fog of warring thoughts and feelings, and made his way out into the hallway.

The next two class periods were sluggish and unfocused. Artie's concentration was nonexistent—his pounding heart and swirling head prohibiting any and all instances of learning.

He was angry with her. Furious. Betrayed. So why on God's green Earth did he want nothing more than to go up to her and apologize, just to eradicate the awkwardness between them? He had nothing to apologize for! He did nothing wrong! She was the one at fault here! Tina was the one who had fooled him for years! _She_ was the liar! He sat subdued at his desk and balled his hands into tight fists, watching his knuckles turn white, attempting to wrap his mind around his shift in emotions.

He shouldn't even want to talk to her, but thus far, the silence between them had proved to be more destructive than helpful. The fact was, regardless of her confession and all of its ramifications, Artie was becoming all too aware of how much he'd come to rely on her to feel normal. He was so used to her being just an arm's length away (regardless of their physical proximity), that this new situation between them was disorienting and uncomfortable. When it came down to it, Tina was his best friend, and the only person he was truly ever relaxed around. She made him focused, and happy, and…well…content. With or without a stutter.

Artie mentally shook himself, trying to jar himself out of the temporary wavering of his will. No, he told himself. This severance was good. It was necessary.

It…wasn't working.

He knew at the bottom of his heart that things wouldn't be completely normal between them until they talked this whole thing out: why she kept her fake speech impediment from him for so long, why he reacted the way he did, what they needed to do to repair the chasm between them.

But that wouldn't happen now. Artie had reached his breaking point. He was ready to move on from this, but he wasn't ready to resolve it. So, damn it all to hell, he wouldn't. Everyone else was allowed to cut corners in life. This would be his chance to do the same.

At this point, forgiveness was close to impossible. But going through his days without her? That was beyond it.

The bell signaling the end of third period snapped him out of his thoughts. He snapped shut his notebook (which had gone completely unused, but Artie couldn't muster up the strength to care about the lack of notes), and wheeled his way out of the classroom and towards his final class before lunch. He shared fourth period with Tina, too, but this time, he wasn't dreading facing her. In fact, he needed to see her.

He knew what he had to do.

He got to class well before Tina. She slipped in the doorway right as the bell rung, crossed arms grasping the notebook squeezed like a shield across her chest, looking as dejected as she did that morning. She slid into her seat, head down, eyes kept to herself. Artie sighed heavily for what felt like the thousandth time that day. Yup, he decided. He would grab her and talk to her as soon as he could.

The next forty-some-odd minutes passed at an agonizingly slow rate. Artie was practically leaping out of his skin, his nerves a jumble of anxiety over the conversation he was going to initiate. Finally, _finally_, the ending bell rung. Artie knew that, like himself, Tina's next period was lunch. The timing was perfect—or as perfect as it was going to be.

Artie deliberately took his time putting his books back into his backpack, noticing that Tina's ancient messenger bag had once again betrayed her, the clasp disconnecting as it frequently did. He looked around and noticed the classroom had emptied completely except for the two of them. Even their math teacher had exited, muttering something about leaving his lunch in the car and vacating the classroom as quickly as his portly frame would allow. Artie chuckled sarcastically, shaking his head. Fate couldn't give him a complication-free relationship with this girl, but it could give him the "perfect storm" of classroom privacy? Oh well, have to take what you can get, he mused.

He adjusted his gloves (a nervous tick he'd developed over the years), and rolled himself over to the desk she sat in, just as she hurriedly stood up, bag back in order, clearly trying to make herself scarce in an effort to avoid him.

Not this time.

"Tina," He declared shyly, his dry throat pushing back against the sound trying to exit his mouth. He swallowed, then spoke, this time more firmly. "Tina, can I talk to you?"

She stopped dead in her tracks, shock and apprehension written clear as day across her face. She didn't expect him to give her any sort of attention, let alone address her directly. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, hands gripping her upper arms just to have something to hold onto. Tina was clearly uncomfortable. That made two of them.

He wheeled closer, his face stern, his voice now full of strength. He needed to do this. They both needed him to do this. No backing down.

"Look," he exhaled, not even aware he was holding his breath. "I really need to say something to you."

"I stopped doing it." The words flew from her mouth, beyond the reach of restraint. "I dropped the stutter. It was silly, and I should've stopped a long time ago, but I couldn't make—"

He held up his hand, stopping her. "That's all well and good, and please don't take this the wrong way, but I really don't want to hear about that right now." She recoiled at his bluntness. He sighed, closed his eyes (halfway to regain his composure, halfway so he didn't have to see that look on her face), and continued.

"We need to deal with all that stuff. Definitely. All I'm saying is now is certainly not the time. But that kind of presents a problem. With sectionals coming up, we all need to be at the top of the game. And no matter how…" He paused, searching his mind for the right word. "…upset I am, or how much I don't understand why you did what you did, the truth is I just don't feel in top shape without you." Her eyes widened in response, showing just how much she wasn't expecting this sort of admission. "You're my best friend, and without you around, it's just, well, weird."

"So I need you to do me a favor. We need to kind of push this whole thing behind us for the time being."

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin slightly, resolve painted on her face, her posture conveying a new confidence. "Absolutely."

He had to stop himself from grinning at her reaction, which was so inherently Tina. When she set herself on reaching a goal, nothing could stop her. She just charged forward, caution be damned. Just like with her brazen glee club audition. And how she tackled her solo for "True Colors" with nothing but bravery and pure heart. Or the way she stood up from her borrowed wheelchair, without an ounce of hesitation, and leaned in to ki—

No. Stop. Not now.

He forced his thoughts back on track. "Do you think we can do that? I know things aren't exactly normal, but…can we just forget about it for now? I think you owe me that much." He couldn't keep himself from putting a little extra venom in that last sentence.

Tina winced just the slighted bit. There was that sickly pang in Artie's stomach again. Great. "Yeah. I think we can pull it off."

"Good."

They paused, emotionally spent now that the day's monumental task had been accomplished. She fingered the elastic band of one of her gloves, and took a deep, shaky breath.

"I'm sorry." The words were so soft, if the room wasn't entire silent, he might not have heard them.

He sighed, letting the breach of contract slide. He whispered back, "I know."

Again the silence settled between them. She shifted her weight from her right foot to her left; he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"So…ready for our verse at practice this afternoon?" Artie asked. He gave her a small smile, extending the olive branch that would have to be a sufficient resolution. At least for now.

She returned his grin with a tiny one of her own, looking up from the spot on the floor where her eyes had been focused. "Definitely."

"Alright, that's good to hear. I don't need you slowing me down out there. It's hard enough picking up Mercedes' slack."

She laughed, letting out a surprised, genuine giggle. Artie's smile grew larger in response as her laughter loosened up the knot in his stomach the tiniest bit. And just like that, they were on their way back to normal.

The rest of the school day passed with relative ease. They were no longer afraid to meet each other's eyes and made small talk when the opportunity presented itself, putting their full effort into forging ahead on what would certainly be a rocky path. They walked to classes together, and even though he traveled via the power of his own arms instead of being pushed by Tina, things felt….nice. Until he was ready to work things out, Artie could live with nice.

That afternoon, New Direction's run-through of "Proud Mary" had been incredible. They felt like a group, working off of each other's energy, playing off of each other's strengths. Artie sang with a renewed vigor. His heart was still heavy, weighed down by the bruises it had sustained within the past day, but at least he knew that regardless of whatever would transpire between himself and Tina, he wouldn't lose his best friend. He simply would not let it happen. At the very least, _that _was worth fighting for.

Practice wound down, and everyone began gathering their belongings to head home for the evening. Artie shoved his notebook into his backpack and zipped it shut, maneuvering the bag onto the back of his chair. He looked up and discovered Tina's brown eyes waiting for his blue ones from where she stood across the floor. She gave him a smile, one that was sweet and just a touch sad, and slowly waved goodbye. He lifted his hand and returned the gesture, noting the deep ache in his chest that was some peculiar combination of sadness, lingering frustration, and longing. With that, she turned and walked slowly further backstage, making her way out the stage door and into the soft light of late afternoon. He couldn't help but watch her until the door gently swung closed behind her and she was no longer in sight.

Years later, Artie would trace through the course of his and Tina's relationship, and he would come to realize that this was it. This was the moment.

The moment he knew for certain he loved her.

For never had he, before or since, been hurt by someone so deeply, yet needed only them to be made whole again.


End file.
